Page 27 of Under the Texas Sky
“We can wear the same shirt. We’re just going to dinner and coming right back here to watch a movie. There’s a new Thai BL movie on Prime.”
Damn her. She knows how much of a sucker I am for those movies. It won’t even matter if we wear the same shirt, I guess, since we won’t be out that long.
“Fine, fine,” I say. “Whatever.”
She presses a kiss to both of my cheeks and grabs my hand, dragging me to her car. Traffic is horrible, and the bumper to bumper backup is my main nemesis. The windows are down, the stale smell of exhaust tickling my nose, but the fresh air redeems it a tiny bit.
“Klaus texted me. He said he’s flying into Arizona next week for a photo shoot,” Willow tells me.
I roll my eyes. Nicholas–or Klaus, as he goes by on OnlyFans–has been blowing up her phone wanting to collaborate with me since my first jerk off video went viral. I can’t help it that Willowretweeted it and my numbers skyrocketed overnight. It’s called using the system to my advantage.
“No. I’m a solo act only. He’s more than welcome to come over and we can take pictures together, but he is not seeing any of my private parts.”
Willow cackles. But I’m so serious. I haven’t touched another person, and at the rate I’m going, I’ll be able to reclaim my virginity with this length of abstinence. If abstinence doesn’t include touching my own dick and putting silicone in my ass. That doesn’t count, right?
“We’re going to dinner when he comes in, okay?” she says. “Just give him a chance. He doesn’t only want in your pants.”
And that’s the part that terrifies me the most.
CHAPTER 24
TRENT
Journal Entry- Day 523
Hi Freckles,
I caved. I clicked the button I’ve told myself I'm not going to click. But, my need to see you is too tempting to pass up.
There’s a lot of pictures, so many more than I originally imagined, and trust me, I imagined you a lot. But my brain doesn’t have the ability to draw your perfectly pouty lips and bright green eyes from memories alone.
The pictures hurt, worse than I thought. Not because you’re naked, but because it really hit me today that I don’t know you anymore.
I don’t know if you use the same floral shampoo that you used to love so much. I don’t know if you like listening to K-POP with the windows down. Do you still prefer physical affection over gifts? Do you still sleep in that shirt I gave you in high school when your brain gets too loud?
I know the hurt I’m feeling now is nothing compared to what I put you through, but goddamnit. Every time my heart pumps blood in my veins, it feels like the veins arebeing sliced open and drained. My heart works overtime to keep it flowing, but nothing stops it.
I don’t know what to do without you. Everywhere I go, there’s a memory of you. Hell, I even live in the apartment we once shared because I couldn’t part with something that once belonged to you.
Your stuff is still in the drawers. And your mirror full of sticky notes has spread to the walls, because not only do I write a letter to you everyday, I have pads of sticky notes around the apartment so I can write one whenever inspiration hits.
It’s not poetry, not like it used to be. I can’t write the flowery words of love anymore, because I don’t have my muse. My sad ramblings are kept to this journal. Well, I guess this one and the other one I filled to the brim. I have that one stored in your shoe box under the bed. The one you thought I never knew about. But I guess I’m ready to spill some more secrets.
I knew about the box from the first time you put the dried flower petals in there. I knew you kept them, and that you were keeping pictures of us and little notes I wrote you stored in there safely.
Sometimes, while you were sleeping, I would pull the box out and look at the pictures. Staring at your face in every one and comparing it to the man lying in our bed, never understanding how I got so fucking lucky to have someone like you love me.
I don’t know if you ever noticed, but sometimes there would be different letters in there. Ones that I would writeto you and I would leave them tucked under the rest as a little surprise. You never called me out on it, so I kept doing it.
I love you and I miss you. Every day is hard without you, and it’s getting even harder. Mitch is getting sick, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been good at comforting people.
That’s always been your forte. He says he’s fine, but Ki. He’s not. And I’m so scared. I can’t lose him, too.
I wish you would come back. I know it’s so selfish, but it’s times like these I need you the most.
My therapist, yes I see a therapist now, tells me that holding onto something for this long isn’t good for me. But I can’t let you go, and as much as she tries to get me to see the reasons it would be better for both of us, I can’t rationalize it in my brain.
I know you would like her a lot, though. She’s hilarious and she keeps me humble. The first few sessions were touch and go, because I didn’t understand why I needed to see a therapist. What was she going to tell me that I didn’t already know myself?
